


Ham Sandwiches and Coffee

by lisabounce



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Food, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisabounce/pseuds/lisabounce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it feels as though he's relearning his city through food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ham Sandwiches and Coffee

Sometimes it feels as though he's relearning his city through food. (Not his city. Never looked like this, sounded like this and then there's those moments, punch to the gut, where he stops and stares at a glimpse of familiarity. A store front. A selection of vintage grocery cans in a window. A brownstone. Not his city.)

Clint favours burgers, pizza and fries when there's an audience. Steamed chicken, rice and vegetables when there isn't and it's a while before he stops dragging them out for pizza after training. 

She vanishes sometimes, days at a time, usually, allegedly, on SHEILD business. When she comes back, there are times when Natasha looks at him and says “Come on.” The cafes she takes him to are filled with old men who stare suspiciously and mutter in Russian. But the food is good. When she comes back, there are times when she looks at him blankly before turning and walking out the door again. An hour, two hours later she might return and they'll spar, up and down the gym for hours till they're both exhausted before he takes her upstairs, nudges her into a chair and places a ham or egg sandwich on the table in front of her, a slice of pie and coffee with it.

It takes them all a while to realise that Tony doesn't actually know how to cook. He finds it more appalling than the others seem to. (He hadn't worn shoes in summer to save them for winter and while they'd never been hungry, they surely hadn't eaten out.) They're dazzled by a whirlwind of restaurants where he makes a point of not looking at the prices, ever, hole in the wall cafes and delivery men who show up with three course meals at nearly two am because Tony's been in his workshop all day and would like some company now please and oh, look, someone else is still awake, to share a meal with. (He suspects that Tony must have been terribly lonely back in Malibu, for all that he could talk to his amazing computer friend, since JARVIS could hardly sit down for a dinner.)

Thor breezes back into their lives in a winter snow storm. Not two hours later, there's roast suckling pig on a spit, mead and wine being carried in. 

There's debate about whether the ...other guy needs to eat. No-one is game to ask. Bruce cooks, carefully, methodically, level spoonfuls of this or that, adjusting the scales to ensure that his measurements are correct. When Bruce cooks, everything he needs is laid out in advance in the order it would be needed, approaching it like an arcane branch of chemistry where simply following the instructions carefully enough is all it takes.

He can explain where he learned each dish and does, quiet voiced and calm.

Pepper takes him to Starbucks, orders triple venti caramel cinnamon mocha concoctions, too sweet and sugary and strange. 

He drinks them to be polite and then one day she takes him elsewhere and gives a rueful smile before simply ordering him a coffee.


End file.
